


A Better Fate than Wisdom: About a Transgression

by Leandra



Series: A Better Fate than Wisdom [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur's POV, Bruises, Filthy kissing, M/M, Roughhousing, Skinny Dipping, UST, but feelings!, little to no plot, trope: heatwave, you could call them lovebites
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22047028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leandra/pseuds/Leandra
Summary: Merlin had joined him in the water, coming towards him with long, even strokes of his arm. He was a good swimmer, better than most of Arthur’s knights and he caught up with Arthur quickly, briefly ducking and diving underneath the water to emerge just in front of him with a grin and water streaming down his face, his hair plastered against his skull, his ears seemingly more prominent than usual. Arthur felt his earlier confusion slip away. It was just Merlin. Clumsy, bumbling, ridiculous Merlin with his silly ears and too insolent grin.-*-After riding all day during a heatwave, Arthur and Merlin stop for a swim. A bit of roughhousing turns awkward and Arthur finds out that silly ears or not, there's just something about Merlin ;-)
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: A Better Fate than Wisdom [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579525
Comments: 33
Kudos: 360
Collections: The Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019





	A Better Fate than Wisdom: About a Transgression

**Author's Note:**

> The second part in a four-part series for the Merlin/Arthur Kiss Fest 2019. Each part will feature a different season, a different set of kisses and at least one trope :-)
> 
> Arthur's POV here.
> 
> Series Title comes from the e.e.cummings poem "since feeling is first": and kisses are a better fate than wisdom.
> 
> Thanks to raina_at for the beta!

The heavy rainfalls of the last weeks had finally given way to warm and dry weather, but just as for everything else, too much of a good thing turned into its opposite and the resulting heatwave was not only ruining the crops that had survived the flooding, but was troublesome and exhausting for man and beast alike. 

Arthur was returning from a trip to Pontnewyddhad, one of the villages that had been most heavily struck with the floods. He could have taken anyone with him, but his choice had fallen - once again- on Merlin. There was something about him, that despite his complete incompetence as a manservant made Arthur value Merlin’s companionship above everyone else’s. Over the past three years, he had found himself seeking Merlin’s counsel for things both mundane and significant and he had always been given sound advice. More and more, he had been using Merlin as a gauge for his decisions, because Merlin was morally and ethically reliable - he was compassionate and kind and thought of others before himself. He had also proven himself immensely loyal, supporting Arthur when needed, but also standing up to him when he thought Arthur was doing something wrong, more than once having prevented Arthur from making a rash decision. 

Today, he had whole-heartedly approved of Arthur’s quick choice to release the villagers of their taxes and send help by repairing their houses and save what kind of crops could still be saved. Merlin’s counsel hadn’t been needed, but it had been comforting having his steadfast and trustworthy presence by his side. 

When they had left the village in the early afternoon, the sun had already beaten down on them relentlessly, but Arthur wanted to make it back to the castle tonight for a good night’s sleep, refusing to stay another night at the village and eat the food the villagers didn't have enough of to share. Now, three hours later, he had come to regret his decision. 

The sun was still high in the sky and burning down on Arthur with unparallelled cruelty. He was sure his nose was blistering and his tunic was plastered to his back with sweat. His horse wasn’t better off, trotting along lethargically, its tail swishing in agitation. Ahead of him, Merlin rode on his equally exhausted horse, looking just as bothered by the heat as Arthur felt. He had taken off his ever-present neckerchief and had wrapped it around his head like a woman’s headdress for protection against the sun’s rays. The measure should have looked ridiculous, but the idea surely had merit, and really, nobody in their right mind would begrudge Merlin his comfort. Arthur watched a drop of sweat roll down the side of Merlin’s long neck, exposed to the sun for once. 

The path ahead finally changed and they entered the woods. The temperature immediately dropped a couple of degrees under the green, airy leaves of the trees and Arthur sighed in relief. They wouldn’t be long now. 

Merlin twisted around on his horse, glancing at Arthur over his shoulder. “We could stop at the pond,” he said, wiping sweat from his forehead with the sleeve of his blue tunic. “Wash some of the sweat off. The horses need a break, too.” 

It was a good idea, and Arthur nodded, grateful for the delay if it meant getting off the horse and out of the sun for a bit. A dip in the pond sounded like just what he needed. They rode in silence for another half hour until they reached their stopover, a small, green pond in the middle of the woods, fed by a clear, cold stream coming from the mountains, surrounded by lush greenery. It was peaceful and quiet and when he got off his horse he figured he could already feel that it was cooler here so close by the cool water. 

They unsaddled and watered their horses, before binding their legs so they couldn’t wander off far, then replenished their own water skins.

Once he had slaked his thirst, Arthur started to undress, tossing his discarded clothes carelessly onto a mossy rock. He sighed when his summer boots finally came off, feeling a blister where the leather had rubbed his sweaty skin raw. He started wading into the water, sighing at the blissful coolness lapping at his feet, then ankles, as he picked his way carefully across the shallow pool until he was deep enough to dive in. He came up smiling and immediately refreshed, treating water and twisting to see what took Merlin so long to follow. 

His manservant was slowly making his way over the rocks, carefully feeling with his naked feet until he reached the water’s edge, his long legs making him look like a foal taking its first unsteady steps. He was so pale, Arthur thought with surprise, pale even on his lower arms, where Arthur usually tanned to a dark bronze over the summer. The only colour on Merlin was the shockingly unruly mop of black curls on his head, a spattering of freckles on his shoulders and belly and the dark hair on his chest and groin. Arthur felt a different kind of heat rise in his face as he observed him make his way into the water. He knew Merlin was slim from the way his clothes hung on him, but he hadn’t expected that his frame was wiry and defined with lean, long muscles. It occurred to him, that he had never ever seen Merlin naked, not even semi-naked, even though they had spent so much time together. 

How often and carelessly he had undressed before Merlin, and until now, he hadn’t thought about it a bit, but suddenly, with Merlin just as naked, he felt strange in his own skin in a way he had never felt with other companions before. He ducked down underneath the water, cooling his suddenly burning face, feeling confusion swirl around inside his belly like seasickness. Behind his closed eyelids, the image of Merlin’s long, pale limbs was burned into his retina. 

When he finally came up again for lack of air, Merlin had joined him in the water, coming towards him with long, even strokes of his arm. He was a good swimmer, better than most of Arthur’s knights and he caught up with Arthur quickly, briefly ducking and diving underneath the water to emerge just in front of him with a grin and water streaming down his face, his hair plastered against his skull, his ears seemingly more prominent than usual. Arthur felt his earlier confusion slip away. It was just Merlin. Clumsy, bumbling, ridiculous Merlin with his silly ears and too insolent grin. 

“So good,” Merlin announced happily, then dove past Arthur like some kind of agile sea creature, his pale body gliding along elegantly underneath the surface of the water. Arthur rolled his eyes, secretly delighted with Merlin’s happiness and followed him more sedately. Merlin resurfaced briefly to inhale a fresh breath of air, tossing a challenging and downright cheeky grin over his shoulder, before diving again. Huffing out a laugh, Arthur followed. Soon they were chasing each other around the pond, Merlin just always two or three strokes out of Arthur’s reach. 

“Enough!” Merlin finally gasped and stopped to twist onto his back. “I give, no more!” he panted out, stretching his limbs out and floating on his back, his quick and deep breaths expanding his chest. 

Arthur, vexed because Merlin had escaped him so far, didn’t accept the end of their game, deciding to launch himself at Merlin and duck him under, just because he could. Merlin went under easily, completely unprepared for Arthur’s attack and came up sputtering and coughing. 

“This is hardly honorable,” he squeaked, glaring at Arthur with indignation. “You are seriously a shoddy knight - especially for a prince, Sire.”

Arthur rolled his eyes fondly at Merlin’s use of his title. “The knight’s code hardly applies to swimming, does it?” he said, sending a wave of water into Merlin’s direction with both hands.

Merlin squaked and mock-growled, baring his teeth at him with displeasure. Arthur rather enjoyed the piqued expression on Merlin’s face and couldn’t help but splash some more water at him. “Now, don’t be like that…” he teased, laughing when Merlin spluttered again, wiping water out of his eyes. 

“Oh, it’s on now,” Merlin hissed, and with a laugh, Arthur launched himself backward, seeking to escape, their roles reversed now. It didn’t take as long for Merlin to catch him - Arthur was already tired from the earlier chase and even thought it irked him to admit it, Merlin was the faster and more dexterous swimmer. 

He was dunked under water by Merlin’s weight, then struggled to break the surface again. When he tried to retaliate, Merlin was already out of reach, dousing him with a giant wave of water that stung his eyes and filled his nostrils. Their water fight continued until they could barely keep afloat, both snorting and laughing and gulping for breath. With a last effort, Arthur propelled himself forward and threw himself at Merlin to dunk him once again. He hadn’t realized they had come closer to the shore and Merlin had found purchase with his feet on the pond bed, so all he accomplished was make them both wobble as he clung to Merlin’s back. Damn, but he hated that Merlin had a couple of inches on him. 

Merlin laughed, trying to throw him off, while Arthur valiantly put all his weight into the task of upsetting him and bringing him down. Underneath his hands, Merlin’s skin was cool and slippery, but he stood his ground, laughing at Arthur’s failure to dunk him. Merlin’s laughter riled him and so did they way Merlin attempted to twist from his hands - it seemed like there was no way to win this, and being as competitive as he was, Arthur very much wanted to win their tussle. Merlin’s pale, long neck seemed to mock him with its vulnerability. With a frustrated growl Arthur bit down hard on the strained muscle where neck met shoulder. 

He had attempted it as a playful bite only, but he had underestimated his anger, and his teeth dug harshly into Merlin’s soft skin. Merlin’s mocking, boyish laugh turned into a surprised, slightly pained grunt and he grew still and slack in the circle of Arthur’s arms. Arthur could have dunked him easily just then with a simple shove, but blood was rushing in his ears thunderously and something tugged harshly in the pit of his stomach. Images flooded his mind, of bodies moving together like animals rutting: Merlin on his knees on the pond’s shore, fingers pushing into the soft, warm soil, Arthur pressed up behind him, his mouth latched onto his neck as his hips pistoned forward. Taking him like a lover. Merlin’s body would feel good, hot and tight and strong. 

With surprise Arthur recognized the feeling in his belly as desire, but not the sweet kind he felt when he thought about a girl he figured was beautiful. This kind of desire was sharp like a knife and blazing like fire and it made him hard so quickly that he felt faint with it.

He drew back with a startled gasp just when Merlin ripped himself free, propelling himself forward in a giant splash, followed by several powerful strokes of his arms putting a not inconsiderable distance between them. 

Appalled by what he had done and trembling with need, all Arthur could do was watch him swim away, his face heating up. He imagined he could still taste Merlin’s skin in his mouth, slightly salty with sweat and sweet like the pond water. Merlin had stopped a couple of yards away, treating water, just out of reach, and he was looking at Arthur with a curious, startled expression on his face, his blue eyes bright and wide. His cheeks were ruddy and high in color, a stark contrast to the usual pallor of his skin. 

Arthur felt the heat in his own face rise, glad that his face was the only thing Merlin was able to see, because other parts of his body had acted up as well. He didn’t know what to do, so he splashed a wave of water into Merlin’s direction, wanting to regain the earlier playfulness. Merlin didn’t really react to this new attack, just took another thoughtful look at Arthur, before simply turning onto his back and letting himself float, the water carrying his slender limbs easily. His breath was coming fast, and he had his eyes closed, his dark hair floating like a cloud around his head. 

Arthur tried to calm his own panting breath and with a sigh, turned over onto his back as well, relieved that Merlin seemed to let the moment slide without comment. He couldn’t have been able to explain himself, so it was better if he didn’t have to. He stared up at the blue sky above him, watching the clouds drift by lazily. His thoughts were racing, but he couldn’t clear his head of the vision of Merlin, naked and warm beneath him, moving with him as he shouted his pleasure.

*-* 

Arthur had stayed in the water as long as possible, but at some point, his tired limbs had grown cold and he could almost feel his teeth chattering. Merlin had emerged from the water a couple of minutes earlier, but Arthur had been too embarrassed to face him yet. It didn’t help - he could hardly stay in the water forever and had to face Merlin. It was hardly the first embarrassing moment between the two of them, but usually it was because one of them was knocked out, falling over or losing their dignity one way or the other.

Merlin didn’t acknowledge him when he stepped from the pond, sitting on a rock nearby in his trousers, his arms wrapped around his knees, looking over the water. The air was heavy with the weight of what had happened, and Arthur wanted to desperately turn back time and make the awkwardness go away. Instead, he had to suffer through it, probably for days, until Merlin forgot the bite and what it might mean and refashion it in his head as just a reckless moment of playfulness. 

Arthur reached for his own trousers and put them on, then sat down on the soft grass, letting the warm sun dry the drops of water on his skin and warm him through. His fingers dug into the grass next to his hips and he ripped out tufts of it and littered his surroundings with the green blades. 

Merlin was uncharacteristically silent and Arthur desperately searched for something to say, something that would bring back the prankish mood from earlier and make everything alright again. He finally looked up and over at Merlin, who was sitting about two yards to his right, still with his arms wrapped around his knees. His baggy trousers clung to his legs with dampness, and the way he was sitting was highlighting the shape of his obliques, a group of muscles Arthur had never expected would be visible on Merlin’s body. But there you had it, there was nothing soft about Merlin, and if that wasn’t a shock considering his general ineptitude when it came to anything physical. Just when he considered this, Arthur had to retract his thoughts, because it wasn’t really true, was it? Merlin was clumsy, yes, and he complained when they had to ride all day and he was truly the most inept training partner Arthur had ever sparred with, but over the last few years, he had learned to defend himself with a sword and he could be fast, with quick reflexes, whenever his aforementioned clumsiness didn’t ruin this reaction. 

Next to him, Merlin lifted his arm, his fingers coming up to rub at the side of his neck. With a strange mix of guilt and something that felt suspiciously like satisfaction, Arthur watched as wincing, Merlin trailed a slender finger over a reddish mark on his skin, a mark which Arthur had put there with mouth and teeth. Merlin stilled as he noticed Arthur’s eyes on him, his face flushing hotly, his fingers dropping away. He stood up suddenly, his eyes on Arthur’s indecisively, his whole frame radiating with embarrassment. 

Arthur’s mouth felt impossibly dry, but he figured he ought to say something, break the awkward silence between them, perhaps with something condescending and offensive. Calling Merlin an idiot usually worked best to mask his true and much more complicated feelings, because there was no way he could admit that Merlin was his best friend. (Best friends didn’t think about taking their best friends to bed, did they?, Arthur wondered absentmindedly). He felt his lips already form words, but in that moment, Merlin started to move, making his way over and past him in the direction of their horses. 

Startled, Arthur’s hand shot out and he reached for Merlin’s arm, his fingers closing around Merlin’s broad, bony wrist. “Merlin, wait-” The boy stumbled at the unexpected hold-up, one leg slipping out from under him, and Merlin came crashing down on his knees, Arthur’s hand still tightly wrapped around his wrist. 

“What did you do that for, you utter clotpole!” he hissed, snatching his arm from Arthur’s grip and circling his wrist bones with his other hand. “I was just about to go over to the horses to get some apples for a snack. Stop giving me bruises, you prat!” 

“Stop talking to me that way!” Arthur heard himself say, a seemingly natural reaction to Merlin’s insolence. 

“Stop hurting me and I will!” Merlin shot back, and he was looking quite angry, his blue eyes glaring and dark as his fingers circled his wrist. 

“I… I didn’t… I- I mean, obviously, you’re such a wimp, Merlin!” Arthur stuttered, trying to inflict indignation into his tone. Before he knew it, he was reaching out, his fingers finding their way seemingly on their own towards the side of Merlin’s neck where a bruise was blossoming, marring the paleness of his skin with a blueish red. His heedless and unconscious action was answered by a surprised hiss and with astonishment, Arthur saw a shiver race through Merlin’s body, before his eyes dropped shut and he trembled, his mouth falling open on a shaky exhale. 

“It doesn’t still hurt, does it?,” Arthur asked unnecessarily, his voice hoarse, his finger stroking, poking and pressing now, his stomach plummeting at the expression on Merlin’s face, open and wounded and scared. 

Merlin bit his lip, nodding reluctantly, and he was shaking badly now, his throat fluttering as he swallowed. Heat exploded in Arthur’s body, the sick, excited sensation from earlier returning with a vengeance and he felt as if he was standing on the top of a cliff, just before hauling himself over the edge. He leaned forward, his eyes darting towards Merlin’s face, expecting him to jump up and run any moment now, but Merlin just kept kneeling there, looking scared and confused, his face mirroring Arthur’s feelings, like a paralyzed deer with the hunter’s arrow already pointed at its neck. 

When Arthur’s lips brushed the soft skin of Merlin’s neck, Merlin sucked in air with a hurt gasp, and the sound travelled right into Arthur’s body, making him want to do it again, so he did. He applied more pressure, growing bolder, because Merlin wasn’t pushing him away or asking him if he had hit his head or was dying of sunstroke. Underneath his lips, Merlin was quivering. His skin was hot and smelt like sun and blood and Arthur opened his mouth and sucked on the flesh, wanting to taste more of him. 

Strong fingers dug into his leg muscles, and when he looked down, he found Merlin had placed his hands on his thighs, likely to steady himself. The touch travelled through him like fire and Arthur threw caution to the wind, his free hand coming up and winding into Merlin’s short, damp curls. He pulled at Merlin’s hair until Merlin tilted his head, allowing even better access to his neck and Arthur worried the bruised skin between his teeth, his tongue darting out to lick over the spot as if to soothe it. 

An inarticulate sound came from Merlin’s lips, and Arthur became aware of Merlin’s noisy breath exhaled against his shoulder. He drew back briefly and found himself looking at Merlin’s dark, hazy eyes and slack-mouthed expression. Arthur licked his lips, suddenly dry under the heat of Merlin’s gaze, his eyes dropping to the bow of Merlin’s full mouth. The hand still wound in Merlin’s hair tugged harder and he leaned down, closing his lips over Merlin’s just as Merlin gasped out a moan. 

Merlin’s lips were surprisingly soft, his mouth sweet when he parted his lips, and Arthur became aware of his madly beating heart, feeling overcome with a combination of need and shocked realization. He had no idea he had wanted to do this, kiss another man, let alone Merlin, until earlier today. He had thought he admired men and the male form because they were strong and able bodied, but it occurred to him, sliding his tongue boldly past Merlin’s lips, that that might not have been everything that was to it. It should have bothered him more, but he couldn’t bring himself to question his actions, not right now, not with Merlin’s hands suddenly clutching at his arms and his tongue curling around his own with matching fervour. 

The inside of Merlin’s mouth was wet and hot and so terribly soft, the pressure of his mouth sweet and welcoming, and Arthur pressed forward hungrily until Merlin’s body gave way and they tumbled to the ground, their legs tangling. Merlin’s body was all hard lines and sharp bones underneath him, and Arthur marvelled at how good it felt, their bodies slotting together as if they were lock and key. 

He drew back briefly to inhale a much needed breath, their foreheads pressed together as they gasped desperate breaths against each other’s faces. Merlin’s hands were sliding over the skin of his lower back, fingers digging into muscle and pressing against vertebrate, like he was learning the texture of Arthur’s body. With a groan, Arthur leaned down again, catching the corner of Merlin’s mouth in a kiss, tonguing the seam where lips parted. Merlin made a keening sound that send a shiver through Arthur and it was so delightful that he repeated his actions, before biting gently into Merlin’s bottom lip. 

Against him, Merlin moved, body pushing up from the ground and molding itself to Arthur’s. He was making sounds that Arthur would have never expected to hear from his manservant, hoarse groans and broken whimpers, and it kindled the fire in Arthur’s veins, spurred him on to seeking out more of those reckless, desperate noises. He trailed his lips from Merlin’s panting mouth towards his jaw, nosing and licking, biting at the vulnerable jugular, before his tongue followed Merlin’s pulse up to just underneath his ear. 

Merlin was squirming against him, his breath so fast that it was coming in short pants. Arthur licked against the soft-looking lobe of Merlin’s ridiculously large ear, hearing the quality of Merlin’s breath change again. His tongue trailed over the shell, following the helix before he slid it into the groove between the smaller muscles there. Merlin’s body gave a violent shudder, so Arthur did it again, emboldened, slipping his tongue into the shell of Merlin’s ear. His own breath was loud, echoed by the crevice of Merlin’s ear shell, but Merlin’s reaction was what kept him going, the desperate clutch of fingers at the nape of his neck, the taut line of his body straining upwards as he dug his heels into the ground, the almost sobs falling from his lips. 

Arthur kept licking until Merlin suddenly convulsed against him, then harshly tugged at Arthur’s hair where his fingers gripped the strands at the base of his skull, pushing him away roughly, whimpering. 

It took Arthur a moment to realize what had happened, why Merlin was pushing him away, why his body was suddenly slack underneath him. He drew back and sat up, staring down at Merlin with wide eyes. 

“Did… did you just…” he stuttered, feeling unable to finish the sentence, unused to voicing such thoughts, even in a moment like this. 

The hot blush on Merlin’s face was confirmation enough, the way Merlin could barely meet his eyes and Arthur felt floored and awed. Merlin squirmed and bit his lips, which were plump and red and inviting Arthur back to claim them. 

“I - I need to see-” Arthur heard himself say, and yes, he probably did, needed to confirm that Merlin had found pleasure just from this, from a bit of unexpected kissing, filthy and dirty as it had well been, and he reached for the strings on Merlin’s trousers, ignoring the shocked protest coming from Merlin’s lips, his hands already tugging to part the fabric. 

The evidence of Merlin’s release was smeared into the spare dark curls on his groin, darkening the fabric of his trousers, and Arthur groaned at the sight, thought that he had done this, he alone. It was so momentous, the evidence of Merlin’s release and how he - Arthur - had been the cause. Arthur had slept with a couple of women, mostly whores who got paid to not tell a soul and who took care that there wouldn’t be a child, and he had kissed a couple of girls, but he had never been able to really tell if they found their pleasure or faked it to please him. Here with Merlin was irrevocable truth and it satisfied him just as it scared him. 

He trailed his fingers through the mess, making Merlin exhale a curse and another half-hearted protest that included an honorific - of all the times when Merlin decided to use one this appeared to be the one time Arthur would have gladly spared him - , then leaned down, wanting, no needing to smell and taste. “Arthur,” Merlin breathed warningly, his voice shocked and embarrassed, and then made a distressed sound when Arthur licked at his lower abs just beneath the belly button, dragging his tongue through his release. If he was to part the fabric of Merlin’s trousers more, move his mouth just a bit, there would be Merlin’s cock, and he could maybe mouth at that too.

Bitterness exploded on Arthur’s tongue and the belly underneath his mouth hitched and he wanted to do it again, examine the flavour and draw more of those agonized noises from Merlin’s lips, but then Merlin suddenly and without warning moved, quickly rising to his feet and making towards the water in an uncoordinated, stumbling sprint. 

Frowning, Arthur watched him throw himself into the pond with a giant splash, wondering if he had overstepped the line, which was very likely, nay, which was a given, considering that he had practically seduced his male servant and had taken advantage of him, abusing his position of power, when he heard the sound of hooves and the whining of horses. 

His head whipped around so quickly that he nearly got whiplash. From between the trees, two horses stepped out into the clearing, and Arthur recognized their riders as two of his knights, Leon and Elyan. 

They shouted a cheery greeting, before dismounting and sending their horses to graze. 

Arthur pulled his knees up, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal, which gladly was fading rather quickly. In the water, Merlin flailed around spectacularly, the earlier elegance he had displayed all but gone. 

“Wonderful day for a dip, Sire,” Leon called out, already disrobing as he came closer. “Nothing better than going swimming after a hard day’s training session.” 

“Or a ride,” Arthur agreed, satisfied to hear his voice as calm and collected as ever, even though his heart was still racing. 

“True that,” Elyan agreed, ripping his tunic over his head and tossing it carelessly to the ground. They both hurried up, seemingly in haste to get into the cool water. Arthur was hot again himself, but he didn’t feel like another water fight and he certainly should keep his distance to Merlin after what had just happened. 

*-* 

Their afternoon and evening had been awkward to say the least. Merlin was blushing whenever he looked into Arthur’s direction, and combined with the sunburn on his face, he looked positively unhealthy. He was clumsier than usual, fumbling with latches and hooks, dropping bags and cutlery and stumbling over non-existent obstacles in Arthur’s chambers as he stowed away Arthur’s belongings. 

Arthur meanwhile was racked with guilt. When it had happened, he had thought that Merlin had wanted him to kiss him, but now, with the timely distance of a couple of hours and Merlin practically vibrating out of his skin with nervousness, he wasn’t sure if maybe he had misinterpreted Merlin’s reaction. Maybe the expression on his face hadn’t been trembling longing but simple fear and he just hadn’t been able to deny his prince. 

Come to think of it, Merlin had protested and his whimpers had sounded pained. Arthur sighed shakily, wiping a hand over his eyes. The thought alone was horrible - what if he had taken advantage of Merlin and Merlin, out of ill-advised loyalty hadn’t refused him? After all, Merlin was loyal to a fault. He had drunk poison for Arthur, thrown himself in harm’s way any chance he got to save him and was generally reckless when it came to treasuring Arthur’s life over his own. 

He jumped when on the other side of the room, a brass chandelier came crashing to the floor with a loud clang. Merlin was looking sheepish as he hastened to straighten it, only to have it slip from his fingers once more.

Arthur exhaled noisily before making a decision. This wouldn’t do. He had to set this right, and if it meant a horribly awkward conversation and the chance that Merlin would leave his service, so be it. He wouldn’t be able to live with this transgression between them. He made his way over to Merlin, only to have his manservant flinch when he halted in front of him. 

“Look, Merlin,” Arthur said, knowing he sounded resigned and pained and bothered, “back at the pond, what happened… I’m sorry about it. Truly sorry. The heat must have totally gotten to my head.” 

Merlin blinked at him, mouth pulled into an unhappy frown. He was fidgeting, leaning so heavily on the chandelier that he made it wobble again, the expression on his face flickering through so many emotions that Arthur couldn’t keep track even if he tried. 

Arthur sighed. “I would totally understand if you want me to release you from service. Just say it, and it’s done.” 

At that, Merlin shook his head, suddenly looking frantic. “No, no. There’s no need to-” 

“There will be no repercussions, of course. You still are Gaius’ apprentice and shall remain so. You will be honorably discharged and there will be no talk about this,” Arthur clarified, even though it pained him to think Merlin wouldn’t be around anymore. He could barely stomach the thought of having another servant - someone who might actually know what they were doing. Suddenly the thought of having bath water at the perfect temperature, spotless boots and respectful wake-up calls (without being dragged out of bed and dumped to the floor) seemed appalling. 

“No!” The word came out loud and fast and the chandelier did crash this time, but Merlin didn’t pay it any mind. “I … I don’t want to leave your service.” 

“Then we must never speak about this,” Arthur said, masking his relief with a pretence of calm professionalism. 

There was a look on Merlin’s face that Arthur couldn’t categorise, but it was gone quickly, hidden behind a rather unconvincing smile. “Of course not!” Merlin said, much too cheerful. “I mean, it was just… it was probably the heat, my Lord.” 

Arthur hmmed and nodded and then turned, hearing Merlin exhale a sigh behind his back. The scrape of the cursed chandelier being uprighted again grated on Arthur’s nerves. He walked back towards his desk, picking up a letter which he hadn’t finished reading yet, pretending to busy himself with it. The words blurred before his eyes, but he forced himself to focus as best as he could. Behind him, he could hear the familiar sounds of Merlin readying his chambers for the night, the rustle of the bed covers being turned down, the clang of the candle holder being put down on his nightstand. 

Once Merlin had finished, Arthur heard his steps approach, before stopping slightly farther away than usual behind him. Arthur could practically feel Merlin’s presence at his back, waiting for him to acknowledge him. Usually, Merlin had no regard for propriety or decorum and was prone to practically wrestle Arthur out of his clothes and shove him towards the bed, but tonight, he wouldn’t reach out at all. (And sod it, but thinking about being shoved into bed by Merlin was suddenly layered with all kinds of dirty images.) 

“Will that be all, Sire?” came Merlin’s hesitant, low question from behind him, a question Arthur couldn’t remember ever having been asked by him, even though it was practically a standard sentence for servants before they were allowed to leave the presence of whoever they were serving. 

“That will be all, Merlin,” he heard himself answer, and he couldn’t even turn around to acknowledge him, pretending to still read the same letter which informed him of a skirmish between two of their neighbouring kingdoms. 

He listened to the sounds of Merlin’s retreating steps, slow and light, before the door was opened and closed quietly. When he was finally alone, he dropped the letter onto his desk and buried his face in his hands. 

What a mess this day had turned out to be. What a complicated revelation about himself. And now his servant, no, his best friend, could barely look him in the eye. But maybe that couldn’t be helped now, this would always be between them, this moment of rash action and one-sided desire. 

There was just no returning from it. 

The End - for now. 

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End file.
